At the Point of Ignition
by KannaKyomu
Summary: In a twelve second span, Ochako realizes she isn't going to make it somewhere between seconds five and six. [Kacchako]
1. Monolith

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"In our day that holds no other, what are we; the fuel or the flame?" -Dark Tranquility

* * *

You could say a lot of things about Midoriya Izuku. Kind to a fault, perhaps even somewhat of a pushover when it comes to his friends. He's always looking out for the little guy, despite being one himself; but when push came to shove Midoriya-kun's determination could move mountains.

It was one of the many traits that Ochako found so appealing about him. His quirk was something else, a power-up not unlike the retired All Might's abilities. A double edged sword that he worked hard to hone into something of value; something not only he could be proud of, but a quirk worthy of a true pro-hero.

Ochako knew these things were a work in progress, but as the towering skeleton of concrete began to tip with a great moaning sound that shook the ground beneath her feet, she couldn't help but think perhaps his training was missing something important. Namely: awareness of his comrades on the field.

Dust rose from the sky scrapers bottom floors where Midoriya-kun battled an unseen foe, the ground shaking with earthquakes and flashes of green lighting up its depths. A body exploded out of the far side, trailing dust and glass, another body in hot pursuit. This last nuisance was only registered dimly as she gaped wide-eyed at the crumbling, monolithically heavy structure.

Ochako knew herself well enough to know that the scope of weight that was quickly bearing down on her was well beyond anything she was capable of. Her quirk would not hold sixty plus stories worth of an abandoned office building.

Her left was blocked, debris piled high and fire burning anything consumable in its path. She turned, the right also blocked. Beyond the far side of a burning school bus she could see a tower of ice rising beyond cloying smoke into the night sky, Todoroki-kun's handiwork as he was similarly occupied far beyond her line of sight.

Ochako's hair swished around her cheeks as she turned a full one-eighty. The only path left to her in the wreckage was straight back the way she had come, and she seriously doubted being able to outrun the length of the building.

Her eyes sought out Iida as soon as she realized, but of course he was nowhere to be found. The small group of Class-A students that had rushed after Midoriya-kun had been split up faster than Bakugo's temper snapping. That is, almost immediately upon their arrival.

You could say a lot of things about Ochako herself- but as her thoughts raced in the previously elapsed six seconds and she readied to activate her quirk on her own body in hopes of propelling herself beyond the trajectory of the very top floor- at least no one would say that she laid down to die.

No, she wouldn't give up- but she knew what she was capable of.

Her heart sank even as the ever familiar nausea roiling in her belly rose. Her boots left the ground with a scraping sensation that traveled up her legs; oddly poignant in the moment.

Uraraka Ochako wasn't going to make it.

It was in the moment between second seven and eight that sound momentarily rushed back to her awareness. Someone was screaming, the fire hissed and popped and the _whoosh-bang_ of Bakugo's quirk was loud in her ears somewhere far behind her.

A thick, impenetrable shadow fell across her back, racing across the ground before her; faster than she could ever hope to propel her body with all the detritus and obstacles in the way.

The moonlight blotted out.

She wasn't going to make it.

Her lips parted, a gasping sob wrenched from her chest and her cheeks suspiciously wet. She hadn't even realized she'd started crying.

The toe of her boot caught on the bent edge of a downed street sign and between seconds nine and ten Ochako hit the ground, precious time lost.

The devastating sound of thousands of tons of concrete meeting the ground rushed at her, deafening and final.

Ochako lifted an arm, and between seconds ten and eleven what had previously been empty sky was suddenly filled a towering figure; lightly tanned skin that curled smoke into the air, wild ash blond hair and furiously angry red eyes.

She noticed his pupils were blown wide, the red of his iris a sliver compared to the void of black. Hard not to notice with the way his features filled her view, but at the same time it was a weird thing to fixate on right before the moment of one's death.

Bakugo Katsuki's breath came in muted heaves, combat boot sliding across dust caked ground inch by agonizing inch.

 _Idiot._ She thought somewhere between stunned surprise and desperate frustration. _Now we're both going to die._

His mouth moved, all jagged white teeth with too much gum and curled, snarling lips. If any sound came out she couldn't hear it.

She distinctly felt the slap of skin when his hand grasped her reaching one, his gloves and grenadier bracers missing. The world continued to move in slow motion as his fingers curled over hers, yanking with purposeful confidence. His skin burned unnaturally hot against hers, calluses rough and grating.

It wasn't hard for him to pull her up, her quirk still active and moving a weightless girl was literally nothing to him. Muscles rippled up his arm and across his bare shoulder as he moved, bringing her bulk into his. In quick succession, Ochako's hands landed on his shoulders, her momentum slammed into his chest, and her jaw bounced off a protruding metal collar guard. His arm was like a steel bar pressed into her lower back, wrist and fingers digging unforgivingly hard into her hip. She wondered somewhere distantly if he'd faced her away from the falling building on purpose.

Ochako would later remember the smell of him overwhelming almost all of her other senses the moment he tucked her securely into him; his skin sticky with sweat and grit.

He smelled like smoke and kerosene.

He smelled like rage and fire and _hatred_ and _defiance,_ and forever Ochako would remember that this boy smelled like _the will to live._ Burning bright, consuming everything in his path without compunction- the complete opposite of the gaping maw of death that held wide around her being; ready to snap shut like an airtight seal and snuff her own flame into oblivion.

 _But not Bakugo_ , she thought hysterically. Nothing could ever possibly swallow the fire that was his existence in the world. It was the weirdest moment for her to come to the realization that Bakugo Katsuki never did anything in half measures. He fought, he yelled, he burned fierce with power and emotion and he _lived._

Bakugo's free hand rose, palm igniting with light that cut through the dark to meet the falling surface of a window as their death fell upon them.

Someone was screaming.

She wasn't sure if it was her or Bakugo. Maybe it was both of them.

His palm exploded, glass shattered, and the world crumbled to nothing; darkness swallowing them whole.

* * *

AN: Hey y'all, just real quick here- this is my first foray into BNHA, and it has some Kacchako themes to it because that's pretty much all I've been reading lately. It's actually super short first chapter, sorry about that. I hope y'all enjoyed, leave me a review if you're feeling it!

This story was not Beta-ed.

TBC


	2. Confinement

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"In our proud momentum, thrust ahead from the start; our fragile frame falls apart."

* * *

She woke to dust in her mouth and something sharp digging into her back. A groan tore from her, miserable and hurting only to cut off with a hacking cough. She was heavy, her quirk having released with the fleeing of her conscious state of mind.

She blinked, panic fluttering in her chest when she realized that nope- it didn't matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut or widened them, it was still dark.

The struggle came next, heart beating a tempo likely to burst from her chest when she realized something _heavy_ was on top of her and solid walls fell to her immediate right and left.

Her left arm was pinned down.

She couldn't feel it.

Her right pushed at the thing that weighed her down, her breath coming in gasps as the world seemed to get smaller and smaller around her.

Ochako had never been claustrophobic before, but here; trapped in the dark where she couldn't see, and couldn't breath, and couldn't _move_ her animal brain seemed to decide that it was a really great time to adopt a fear of small spaces.

"Fuckin' quit it." A familiar voice exhaled raggedly into her ear and even without the ability to see she suddenly realized the thing immediately on top of her was Bakugo, and not in fact a building.

No, it seemed the order of progression was herself, and then Bakugo, and _then_ a building.

Oddly, the realization that she was not alone in the dark tempered her down to a more manageable level.

"Shit." Bakugo coughed, expelling dust from his lungs and expressing her own sentiment.

"I can't see." She was not proud to say that it sounded more like a whimper than a statement.

"No shit." Bakugo did not seem to appreciate her pointless commentary.

"I can't feel my arm." She blinked at nothing, his skin slick with sweat and sliding across her arms in a scintilla of sensation as he attempted to move.

She felt him pause the in the dark, his hands finding purchase on the uneven ground on either side of her ribs, fingers splayed beneath her. Ochako felt him flex in a motion like a push up but the movement was cut off by what she could only call a grunt of pain. His body came back down on top of her only a moment later, heavy and overheated.

"Can we get some light?" She whispered it, afraid that anything louder would bring the unimaginable amount of concrete bearing down on them. At least, more than it already was.

"Stupid." The word didn't have his usual heat, which struck her as strange especially coming from Bakugo Katsuki. "You want to run out of oxygen even faster? What do you think fire fucking requires to exist dip shit?"

Ochako stiffed, a new worry weighing on her just as surely as all the literal things- she hadn't thought about how much oxygen they might have in this tiny, confined space.

Probably not a lot. Leave it to Bakugo to come to such immediate conclusions about their situation.

"Okay," She tried, "I could levitate what's on top of you, and maybe we could move it enough to get out?" As she spoke her good arm rose past his shoulder; feeling at the sold, flat layer of building that left barely an inch between his shoulder blades and it's own surface.

"Don't." He grunted again, a sound that had an undertone of discomfort; a pained sound. "We don't know how deep we are, can't risk shifting anything."

He coughed again, great hacking sounds that she was suddenly terrified sounded almost like sobs. Something wet dripped from his mouth and down the side of her neck.

 _Oh, Gods. Please just be spit._

"Bakugo?" Her voice came like a lost spirit in a graveyard. There was a long pause as he tried to catch his breath in a measured way.

The silence was drawn enough for her to realize he was counting them.

Three in, hold two, four out.

"Bakugo?" She tried again, a little louder this time as her awareness zeroed in on the sensation of his breath ghosting across her neck. The little puffs were getting shallow.

Panic welled in her, because they'd managed to actually live through a building _falling on them-_ he couldn't leave her _now-_ They weren't good friends, hell she wasn't even sure if they were friends at all but she'd known him for almost two years now and he was _familiar,_ Bakugo was _warm_ and _here and alive_. He couldn't die, he just _couldn't!_

"Katsuki!" She barked it, loud and sharp and his whole body jerked atop her as if he'd just remembered she was there at all.

"Shut it Round Face!" He snarled right back, leaving a ringing in her ear that she was sure matched the ringing in his.

"Tell me what's wrong." It was not a question, her hand already smoothing across the skin of his exposed arm, seeking the injury she was sure she'd find. He tried to shrug off her touch but there wasn't near enough room to make the motion successful.

Her fingers traced his collar, noting the way the tendon strained against the fabric of his tank top.

It was wet.

Ochako became aware of a new drip, landing on her chest and rolling down the side of her breast to pool under her back. It fell from his shoulder in a steady trickle.

The flat of her palm curved over him, fingers sinking into the moist fabric of his shirt as he heaved for breath above her. Her fingernail hit metal, and everything went _full stop._

Ochako swallowed reflexively, Bakugo's weight pressing down on her in one more increment. His arms trembled lightly, she could feel it against her sides. He was losing strength but putting up a front. She imagined it wasn't so much for her sake as it was that pretending like he wasn't injured was just the _Bakugo_ thing to do.

Her hand wrapped around the shape of what she thought might be jutting rebar. She followed its length until is disappeared into Bakugo's back.

"Fuck." She'd never been one to curse, but now seemed like as good a time as any.

Bakugo chuckled weakly, and she realized that if blood was coming out of his mouth then the metal might be piecing his lung. The positioning seemed about right but she certainly wasn't a doctor and it was pitch freaking dark. The information available to her was damned limited.

Ochako was not the kind of thinker that Deku-kun was, let alone the boy atop her. That however, did not mean she couldn't follow a line of thinking and figure out what would give her a desired outcome.

"We have to stop the bleeding." She told him, but in return all she got back was some half-hearted grumbling, his weight settling atop her fully. She though she felt his eye lashes sweep across her neck as his eyes fell shut. Bakugo went lax.

His riot of blond hair that she could not see, was astoundingly not coarse like she had always thought but a soft halo pressed into her neck and face.

That was probably neither here nor there right now though.

Ochako had no room to move to the left or right, but when she experimentally raised a knee, trying desperately to ignore the way it came up between Bakugo's own legs twisted around hers, and lifted up her foot it kept going until she had it stretched all the way up.

There was room down there.

She just needed to get them over there in the first place.

It was in this moment that Ochako realized she had two options. Two, very dangerous options that could both lead to Bakugo's death just as surely as the other. She knew her life was also in the balance, but somehow it just didn't feel that pressing compared to having a metal bar impaling one's body.

She needed to get him out of here- he needed immediate medical attention.

If she did managed to shimmy past him, and move him to where she could treat the puncture; the wound itself might be bad enough that he would bleed to death once the rebar was removed. Or worse yet- if his lung was actually punctured he might drown in his own blood.

The rebar was keeping him from bleeding out- temporarily.

But- if they stayed like they were now, there was no guarantee anyone would get to them in time. The clock was ticking. Asphyxiation, exsanguination, honestly the odds were not in their favor.

Running out of oxygen seemed like a very real eventuality. The air already felt whispy in her lungs, thin and dry and uncomfortably dusty. Ochako trampled the itchy desire to cough, afraid of josling Bakugo's injury atop her, at least, more than she already had.

Then of course there was the little problem of her left arm, her head turned in the dark, hair sticking to her cheek with either blood or sweat, she wasn't sure. Honestly she wasn't even sure if it was her hair or Bakugo's.

A slight testing movement of her shoulder had pins and needles flaring own the length of her arm, and she had to grit her teeth past the pain.

So, first things first then. Make a decision, make a choice.

Then live with that choice.

* * *

TBC


	3. Halcyon

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"The moments so illusive, hangs heavy on our head."

* * *

Ochako wiggled, bringing Bakugo even closer to herself as gently as possible so she could reach over his neck to feel her left arm. She couldn't get down the entire length of it, but what she managed to map out seemed whole enough.

There didn't seem to be and tell-tale wetness at least.

An awful sensation rippled down her left arm once more as she attempted to flex, and the gravity girl discovered a mound of bricks and rock was compressing her upper arm to the floor. It was a small relief to realize her arm just lacked blood, and wasn't broken or in fact missing altogether.

Bakugo stirred above her, she could almost feel the scowl forming on his face as her right arm abandoned her left in favor of giving said boy some breathing room. Well, metaphorical breathing room.

"What the fuck Round Face." This time she definitely felt his mouth shape the words into her neck.

Ochako held in a squeak like it might kill her if she let it out, determined to hide her completely out of place reactions. She floundered for something to say for about as long as it took for reality to reassert itself. Coincidentally, it wasn't very long considering how agonizingly uncomfortable she was.

"How deep is the puncture?" She went for the throat of the situation, trying to glean what information she could pry out of the notoriously tight-lipped boy. At least concerning his own well being.

She wasn't sure how long he'd be conscious for, she knew if it was her with a hole in her back she'd probably be solidly out- but this was Bakugo so of course he was managing. Somehow.

He grunted at her, and she felt it reverberate through his chest and into hers.

Her brain decided that this was a fantastic time to realize her ample breasts were pressed flat to his muscular chest.

 _God damn her teenage hormones._

"Deep enough." Was his eventual reply, she had to actually concentrate to remember what she had even asked.

The oxygen must be getting pretty thin. Yeah, that was definitely it.

A soft, hysterical giggle seeped from her lips that left her oddly breathless, and suddenly her justifications didn't seem so much like justifications as they seemed like reality. Her heart thumped against her ribs, she could feel her pulse in her left arm- needles stabbing the muscles and make her eyes tear up in frustration. Her leg kicked at nothing, a horrid jerking motion that reminded her of restless nights in bed when she was unable to sleep from all the stress.

She could feel Bakugo's own heart beating in his chest, a rapid tempo speeding up to match hers.

Ochako started tugging on her left arm in earnest, once again feeling too cramped, the space _too small_ , Katsuki's skin was _way_ _too hot_ and the air was _so thin…_

Panic welled in her like a lost but not forgotten spring.

Bakugo clenched his jaw, the tale told by a jump in his cheek muscles and his teeth fitting together in a frustrated _clack._ The next thing she knew his hands were slowly, carefully trailing up her sides to catch her face in his overheated, sweaty palms.

Like a daydream time seemed to slow, her whole universe revolving around that singular point of contact. Her eyes widened in the dark, the pads of his thumbs swept just beneath her eyes and she felt it as he started counting his breathes once more.

Three in, hold two, four out.

She followed his lead, breathing in tandem for what felt like an eternity and the practice had her breath coming in just a little bit easier. Her legs stilled, whole body one big aching, tired mass.

His thumbs slowed and she got the sense from him that, buried under gods-only-know how much rock and building, slowly suffocating to death, while he bled out on top of her- that he had done it on purpose.

To calm her down.

He always had been terrible at talking.

His chest rumbled again, some unknown sound trapped there that never left his lips and the length of his body relaxed once more, his forehead dropping back into the curve of her neck.

"This fucking sucks." He admitted, and she couldn't help but agree, except…

"At least you aren't alone." And what _she meant_ was: at least I'm not alone, but she'd said what she said and now she had to own it.

"Tch." His lip curled, and she knew what was coming the moment the words had left her mouth.

Except, they didn't. He didn't say anything. Ochako mentally flailed, reaching for something to fill the sudden gap because this felt like the last moment in her existence that she ever wanted Katsuki to not fit into the Bakugo shaped box in head and _why the hell did she keep calling him Katsuki._

"There's more space at our feet, if I can unpin my arm, I might be able to slide past you and then we can get that rebar out. I have some supplies in my belt, I don't know how deep the puncture goes so it might be better if we just wait-" Her rambling cut off when his thumbs swiped purposefully once more across her cheeks. His skin was rough, calloused, both his hands and her cheeks were caked in filth. They were both in pain and she was mentally straining to stay calm, trapped underground in the dark and yet-

And yet-

The gesture was violently intimate despite the circumstances.

She swallowed, falling silent immediately. He exhaled heavily into her neck.

"Okay." The grunt of acknowledgement just barely registered, her mind completely wrapped around every point of contact between them and his fingers were _still stroking her face._

"Okay." She parroted, and the next thing she knew his right palm had left her cheek, the skin now oddly cold as his fingers searched down her left arm in the impenetrable darkness.

"I can't move all of it." His voice was uncharacteristically soft in her ear as he mapped out the rocks and broken concrete that held her arm down. "I don't want to risk any of this shit being weight bearing."

"Your quirk-" She started thoughtlessly.

"Shut the fuck up if you don't have anything of value to input Uraraka." He decapitated her statement with the most ferocity she'd gotten out of him in… however long they'd been here.

She wasn't actually sure.

He coughed again, hacking against her skin in a motion she should probably find gross but here, buried in what could possibly be their grave all she could muster was concern.

Concern she was positive he didn't want or need. Ochako kept her mouth shut.

The sound of rocks shifting filled the silence, his muscles contracting and flexing against her as he held his weight with his left elbow, that palm still against her face like he thought letting go would be some terrible metaphor.

"Try it now." He murmured, sounding tired. She jolted her shoulder, a scraping sensation alighting along her forearm and she couldn't help the hiss that left from between her clenched teeth.

"What now?" He rumbled, but she could feel from their proximity the way he was already feeling out the rubble for whatever had disturbed her.

"Something sharp." She told him, and just when the words had left her mouth there was a crunch, another swift pinch against her skin and the slide of glass across the ground.

"Got it." He exhaled. Ochako moved her shoulder, elbow bending in towards her body and the arm followed in and away from the small amount of space Bakugo had created in order for her to escape.

* * *

AN: Fun fact, all of the beginning quotes are by the same band, from the same song, which is of course the title of this fic. I'm sorry the chapters are so short, it just sort of ended up this way. I hope you guys like it so far? More to come, please review if you'd like.

TBC


	4. Undeterred

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"In the life that hides behind you, what are you, the fuel or the flame?"

* * *

The first thing Ochako did with her newly free, tingling arm was grasp at his shoulder and press him tighter against her, emotions running high and this small victory leaving her with a momentous feeling of accomplishment.

She did it before she could stop to really think about _who_ he was.

"Now what genius?" His voice was tight, pained, and shame washed over her when she remembered he had metal jammed into his back.

"Sorry!" She whispered, jolting him again as she let go only for his hand to swipe hers up and pin it to the floor.

"Just- hold still for a fucking second." He snapped with heat and teeth like a cornered wolf.

She did. Utterly, deathly still, taking in the smallest of breathes as her every movement was pressed into him.

His overheated palm squeezed over hers, fingers and all tucked into his much larger hand.

"It's in my shoulder." He finally admitted lowly into her ear. Her relief was immediate and consuming, a tension she hadn't realized was even there uncoiled from her spine.

He wasn't bleeding into his lungs then.

Bakugo felt her relax incrementally, as intimately close as they were, and his hand squeezed her palm once more in a motion she thought she understood but didn't because it was _Bakugo._

"How do you want to do this?" He grunted next, and her mind stalled for a moment as she tried to work out the mechanics.

"If I use my quirk to remove your gravity you'll be able to control how quickly the bar comes out as I move past you." She said slowly, thinking out loud.

"Okay." He said again, but this time it seemed like a loaded 'okay', like he was expecting something else. She had no idea what.

There wasn't enough air in here to think anymore _._ It felt like every inhale was taking in Bakugo's exhales, every new breath expanding more and drawing in less.

Her right hand twiched against his arm where it had been comfortably resting, her finger pads smoothing against the exposed skin there as she activated her quirk in a purposeful five-finger touch.

His weight became nothing and she struggled not to gulp in much-needed air as she knew the rise and fall of her ample chest would only further impale him on rebar; weight or no weight. It wasn't like a deep breath would mean more oxygen either.

The solid mass of stone pressing into both of her shoulders suddenly reminded her that now she had nowhere to go but _down._

"Oh." She realized, face turning a thousand degrees across the bridge of her nose, and was it just her or was Bakugo's hand on her cheek getting even _hotter?_

"There it is." He rumbled into her neck tiredly, the sound had a shade of humor to it, and maybe even a bit of his own embarrassment if she wanted to go digging.

"Do or die Uraraka." He reminded her quietly but not lacking his usual flat, this-is-how-it-is quality.

Ochako thought the common idiom was morbidly literal all things considered. She pulled a face, banking on the fact that he couldn't see either and completely, willfully, ignored the fact that his hand was on said face.

She took a breath and held it like a diver about to break a depth-record.

She wiggled her hips, testing the amount of give Bakugo's weightless body would allow and he grunted in a way she was going to ignore and _never think about ever again._

"Sorry!" She squealed again and he released her left hand, which found a perch on his other shoulder immediately as she continued to try to shimmy down his body.

"Just get it over with." It sounded strange, like he said it between clenched teeth, and suddenly she felt terrible. She was probably hurting him.

"I'll try to hurry." Ochako reassured before she could think better of it, and his head lifted off her neck as she managed to get another inch of distance.

"Watch it Round Face!" He snapped a moment later when she pressed up on his shoulder without meaning to in a bid for more leverage. She snatched her hand away like he'd burned it, which with Bakugo was always a real possibility.

His palms left her skin then, landing flat on the ground with a _smack_ above her head.

Her own hands shifted along his sides, and then the ground, and alternating to whichever gave her more space to maneuver, which was neither option really.

Her head turned to the side, her nose scraping concrete and her ear pressed to his abdomen.

He held himself as still as possible, tension riveted through him like a suspension bridge cable.

Ochako paused, her belt snagging on what she could only assume was the uneven ground but lacked any semblance of room to move her hands to check.

She must have said something colourful because Bakugo grunted that same sort of low, pained laugh again before hissing through clenched teeth.

"Hurry up." He ushered, and she could only imagine what this was like for him, having to keep himself _up_ onto the rebar that impaled his shoulder with arms that had been shaking with only a few moments of effort earlier; at least her quirk would do most of the work for him this time.

"I'm trying." She assured in a rush. "I'm stuck on something." She admitted with another wiggle of her hips.

"On what?" He snapped like it was her fault.

"What does it matter, just give me a damn second!" She snapped right back, lifting a leg all the way up and slamming it back onto the ground in frustration.

* * *

AN: This chapter is disgustingly short. I'm so sorry, the next few will be much longer I promise.


	5. Pyretic

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"Draped over your bones, paint colors up the walls to spread our inspirations. You are the likely cause of what will be my demise." -Daughter

* * *

"Can you-" She stopped, realizing what she was about to say but still needing to say it.

"Can I what Uraraka spit it out." It seems she'd reached the end of his rather long-lived patience that she'd been enjoying. Apparently being injured and exhausted did wonders for Bakugo's temperament.

"Can you move your hips up any, I need to unclip my belt." She admitted, the sentence leaving her somewhat breathless, and not because of its content but more because she was in a rather _tight_ place at the moment.

"Yeah." And just like that, without any hemming or hawing Ochako was reminded of the confidence he held himself, of the way he always spoke in terms of steadfast assurity, no room for self-doubt or hesitation.

He grunted again, his knee coming up along her leg and hip to leverage himself up the scant few inches she needed.

"That's good." She notified, her hand diving between their bodies to unclip her belt without stopping to think about what exactly her hand was passing under.

Bakugo made a strange noise, somewhere between a grunt and an exhale that sounded like he'd been punched in the chest.

" _Guh."_

Ochako paused again in startlement, worried she'd hurt him worse this time.

"Are you-"

"Get on with it Round Face!" His hand bust with a small amount of light, much too sudden and glaring for her to do anything but blink against.

"Fuck!" His shout mixed with her shriek when the stone above them rumbled ominously, dust falling everywhere and sending both of them into a coughing fit.

Ochako wriggled out of her belt, and edged quickly out from under Bakugo over the course of the next couple of minutes.

Very awkward, tense minutes.

She tried to sit up right, hunching low and reaching up with a hand to feel how high the space went. Her hand touched stone just above her head; so not very high then.

"Bakugo there's more space here, do you think you can move?" She said the words with a new breath of air, one she knew wouldn't have too many repeat performances but found invigorating regardless.

"Shut the fuck up Uraraka." Was all she got for her effort. The noise that punctuated his words was a sound she would never forget for the rest of her life.

The tearing of fabric, the sound of metal on what she could only assume was _bone_ and a wet, suctioned release that had her belly roiling like she'd just lifted a zero-point blockade robot on an overly full stomach.

She heard him thump to the ground next and she tried her best to get out of the way as he shifted out of the small alcove they'd been stuck inside. His movements went a lot faster than hers had; no extra body to maneuver around.

"R-release." Her fingertip pads touched together, returning her companions weight to the natural order of the universe's laws.

Bakugo sat up slowly, reaching for the space around him like she had, she heard his palm slide against the roof and the other grasped her arm.

She reached back for him on reflex, her vision gone and needing to be reassured that he was still here. Ochako returned his grip on her forearm, creating a bridge between them in the dark.

Her other sought his injured shoulder, immediately remembering her belt which had all of her supplies in it left behind in the dark.

"My-"

"I have it." He cut her off for the millionth time.

He shifted again, his free hand sweeping across the ground and dragging something towards her, he snatched her seeking hand and guided it towards the belt at his side.

Ochako blinked wide eyes, desperate to see and completely unused to not having such an important sense as she used her hand to orient which pouch was which.

"This one." She murmured to herself, not missing the way Bakugo's posture seemed to sway for a moment.

 _Shit._ She scrambled for the roll of gauze, which she just now though might not actually be enough to stop the blood loss and-

Bakugo jerked to the side like he'd had one too many drinks.

"God Damn it Katsuki!" She hissing vehemently at him, and his lack of a response was telling.

Also terrifying.

She reached for him again, feeling along his shoulders and turning his body as best she could with his less-than-cooperative nature not helping at all. He wouldn't let go of her arm, and she had to pry his fingers from her person in order to turn his back to her.

"Shirt." She commanded shortly, and her worry escalated when the seconds seemed to tick by before the command registered enough for him to attempt to struggle out of the article. Ochako respected Bakugo's steadfast nature and his I-can-do-it attitude, but in this situation she decided it would be better to do it for him and take the risk of pissing him off over letting him bleed out. So Ochako reached for his lower back, fumbling in the dark for a moment before sliding cold fingers beneath the fabric of his black tank top across _heated skin- holy shit he was burning up._

Was this normal?! She wasn't sure, she didn't think so? No, no there was no way his ambient temperature was this high, Explosion Quirk or not.

Blood was pouring out of his back, hot and thick and Ochako had to struggle to get his shirt off with how violently he began to tremble under her touch.

"Fuck." He mumbled. She was sure, had he been more lucid, that he would have come up with something much more... explosive over his invalidity.

She sincerely hoped he didn't murder her later for witnessing this. Assuming they had a 'later'.

Ochako balled the fabric of his tank top up, and pressed it into his shoulder with a firm hand.

"Bitch!" He _yelped_ , jerking away from her. Ochako's hand snatched up his other shoulder to bring him back in the same instant.

"Deal with it!" She snapped, more concerned than irritated.

He snarled without words but Ochako was too busy trying to unroll gauze with her teeth. The shirt was becoming saturated much too quickly for her tastes so she held the fabric there for a long, very long stretch of minutes until she felt the blood was stemmed enough to wrap it.

She couldn't really tell how deep it was without sticking her fingers in it, and that didn't seem like a sensible thing to do unless she wanted to be burnt to a crisp- which she didn't thank you very much.

There wasn't a lot she could do about his filthy skin, let alone her equally filthy hands tending to him, or what all was on the tank top she was using as a poor stand in for a tourniquet. Ochako did the best with what she had, and prayed the stop gap would work long enough to get him to a hospital. Ochako promised herself if they got out of this alive she'd start carrying a lot more medical supplies.

The puncture was in an awkward positioning, and she had to finagle the roll of bandages under his armpit and across his back and over his shoulder in order the get the actual wound wrapped. The gauze soaked up even more blood so once again she used her teeth to tear strips out of his tank top- which was ridiculously hard to manage- in order to stuff scraps beneath the bandages.

She laid a hand over the wound, trying to feel if it was getting any wetter and after another long minute of deafening silence she deemed it good enough. Bakugo swayed in soft circles like a sapling in the wind.

"Done." She sighed in relief, and as if that had been the que all along Katsuki slumped backwards into her, unconscious once more.

* * *

AN: I'm really excited about the next couple of chapters y'all. Well, actually this is where things are really gunna start to pick up so the rest of what I have planned is gunna be pretty fast paced. I hope y'all enjoy, thank you for taking the time to read and review! I love you guys!


	6. Cacophony

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"We are the reckless, we are the wild youth chasing vision of our future. One day, we'll reveal the truth. That one will die before he gets there." -Daughter

* * *

Honestly, she was surprised he'd managed to stay awake for this long after the first time he'd passed out on her. She had no idea how long he'd been fighting before he'd swooped in and gotten himself skewered on construction equipment, but Ochako could infer from how tired she was at the very start of this that Bakugo had probably fought twice as hard as she had.

He'd been missing his grenadier bracers when he'd shown up, and that probably meant he'd either used them to the point where they had become a hindrance, or they'd been damaged somehow. The point was- this little misbegotten adventure hadn't even started with either of them at full mast, and then the sheer fact that they'd even _survived to begin with…_

Add some life threatening injuries, what was most definitely a high fever at this point, and oxygen deprivation and well… if he had been anyone else… she'd rather not think about it actually.

Katsuki was something else; a league all his own, and despite his caustic personality, despite the teeth, claws and spit- Ochako had always been flattered by the standard he held her to. It was the same standard he held everyone to, even himself. Especially himself.

Y _ou can do better._

That's what Ochako liked to focus on when all his bluster and pomp got thrown around like a category five hurricane. That look in his eyes, that snarling grin on his face when she landed a blow in practice. Like he wanted her to be better than she was, like he _expected it._

Ochako shifted backwards in the dark, a hand held out behind her and the other barred across Katsuki's chest. There wasn't time to stop, she had to keep going even if she couldn't see, even if she was tired and dizzy and everything hurt.

Katsuki would never ask, and he would never own up to it if they made it out of here- but he needed help; and she was the only one here to give it.

Her finger pads smoothed over his exposed side, trying to ignore the slickness that could have been sweat or blood, and activated her quirk in order to drag him along with her easier.

Her boots and the length of her legs caught on a multitude of objects, round, sharp, piercing. If she wasn't one mass of bruises and cuts by now she'd eat her gym shorts.

That was a lie. There's no way she was going to do that.

Ochako did not meet a wall right away like she had expected, and after a minute of an excessively slow paced crawl she turned around, hand still reaching but forward now.

Bakugo floated along beside her, eerily quiet. She decided she liked it better when he was screaming death threats in her face.

 _Or breathing soft words into her neck._ The unbidden thought turned her face scarlet the same moment her finger tips touches a flat surface.

A flat surface that was surprisingly… cold?

A cough ripped from her throat, and she wished for a drink of water for what would probably not be the last time during this ordeal.

Ochako contemplated the wall before her, her Katsuki-occupied arm bringing his weightless bulk close enough for his hair to brush her neck and his body heat to soak into her back.

He really was outrageously overheated. She had only a moment to worry about the repercussions of a high fever on top of everything else before her hand met a rounded curve of concrete at ground level that felt suspiciously like…

"A curb?" she mutter to herself in the dark. Bakugo stirred gently, huffing a breath into her skin.

Ochako used a filthy, grime-encrusted hand to brush equally disgusting hair out of her face. The mass felt crunchy in some places and thick with wetness in others. She imagined she probably looked quite frightening at this point.

Something shifted in the air then, and Ochako only had a split second to gather up her unconscious companion and press him into the chilled wall for lack of anywhere else to go when the ground began to rumble beneath her feet once more. He slumped over her, suddenly heavy on her shoulder as she released her quirk with an accidental five-fingered touch. Ochako did her best to cover him in a reflexive motion she didn't give any thought to, ready to shield his much larger bulk with hers.

The terror was immediate, all consuming and devastating to her thoughts. Colors bust in her vision in bright blues and whites in a sensation she knew but didn't think she'd ever actually experienced on this level before. Her pulse pounded in her temples, and all she could think was that if they died then Ochako will have failed Bakugo, she'll have failed his expectations and that just wasn't _fair._

 _I just need more time!_ Her thoughts screamed over and over meshing together in a slew of mental word vomit, desperate and full of broken resolve.

Dust cascaded over them, filling her lungs which spasmed in vehement protest. The shriek of metal filled her ears and the grinding of concrete on concrete as something large hit the ground in an avalanche of building from the direction they had come from.

Katsuki jerked awake with the blaze of red hot light in his palms, which were unfortunately close to her arms. The _Bang_ of his quirk resounded in her ears, thunderous and deafening. The smell of singed fleshed added to the cacophony, and Bakugo's not-on-fire hands were on her again, tugging, pulling, turning them around so it was her back to the wall and his body facing the unknown.

Ochako didn't have a lot of brain power to compute this with what she was sure were third degree burns screaming agony up her arms and pouring precious water from her eyes. She clung to the boy in front of her for all the she was worth as the world crumbled around them, sobbing into his chest, shamelessly overwhelmed.

The roof above the pair shifted in a sound so ominous she was sure this was it, their last moments left before they were crushed to death and Katsuki seemed to have a similar train of thought, his palm slid into her hair at her nape, pulling her face into his neck as he buried his in hers.

"Ochako." She only head him over the riot of sound because he was so close, the shape of her name was heavy, guilt laden and as intense as anything he'd ever said.

She couldn't help but regret that the first time… the last time he'd say her name it had to be with such heavy apology.

The pair fell from their knees, clutching at each other hard as the concrete above them fell a handful of feet, forcing them to the ground.

Ochako's boot bumped the curb behind her and fell into the empty space beneath it.

 _Wait._

"Katsuki!" She nearly shrieked right into his ear, managing to rein it in at the last second. She clutched at his wrist, forcing it off her person and laying it flat on the ground.

"Blow it up!" She did scream this time as the ground shook harder. Bakugo didn't argue, there wasn't time, and in the next second his hand was igniting, his other sweeping her behind him and out of the blast radius.

She blinked against the light, managing to catch his silhouette in the dark and the shadow of fresh and dried blood that slathered his exposed back.

The ground beneath their feet caved, and suddenly she was falling.

* * *

AN: So on a totally unrelated note, I discovered this show on Crunchyroll called Angels of Death. (its based on the video game if y'all have ever played it) Here's the thing though, the main male character is the same voice actor as Bakugo; and this character is very similar in personality to Bakugo as well, the major difference being if you took some of Hidan's (From Naruto) traits and threw it in there. Its a really fantastic show y'all I highly recommend it. It kind of has a similar tone to It Ends At Dawn if any of y'all have read that fic of mine.

Back on point though, I loved writing this chapter! Chapters Seven and Eight came out really great too so I hope you guys will stick with me till the end.


	7. Clarion

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"Some trees flourish, others die. Some cattle grow strong, others are taken by wolves. Some men are born rich enough, and dumb enough to enjoy their lives. Ain't nothing fair. You know that." -John Marston

* * *

Ochako activated her quirk mid-fall, the familiar sensation of dropping in gravity's hold bringing about the reflex to exert her own will over physics. Bakugo's weight remained for a moment too long, his grip painfully tight against her upper arm that she was sure would have burn scars for the rest of her life.

He pulled them down in free fall for only a split second before his hand ignited at the same moment she removed his gravity and the two went slinging sideways across the dark, open space at terrifying speeds.

Air, humid and heavy rushed past her cheeks and ears, Bakugo's fingernails digging unforgivingly deep into the burns he'd only just graced her with. One more mark to add to the list as they used whatever means to keep from becoming separated; she was sure her nails were marking crescents of their own.

She had the distant thought, buried deep and almost entirely smothered; that if the two of them had ever bothered to partner more in class they might have a firmer grasp on some sort of cohesive, unspoken agreement like Todoroki-kun and Deku-kun always managed. Though with how willfully stubborn Bakugo was, getting any sort of cooperation of out of him was like sloughing through maple syrup. She'd known that even before agreeing to the few and far between moments that they did work together.

Weightless and catapulting at speeds she had no reference for without her eyes; Ochako knew there would be no deceleration. Something had to interrupt their momentum, and as soon as Ochako realized they'd managed to get out of the danger of being crushed _again_ by falling debris she returned her gravity.

She pulled Bakugo down like a rock with a balloon attached to it- one that had been jettisoned from a cannon.

They hit shallow water and the momentum ripped her into a roll that had her bouncing across the waters surface like the rocks she used to skip as a kid. If anyone ever asked her in the future she would be able to confirm that yes, hitting water at high speeds was tantamount to hitting concrete. She imagined this would be what falling off a motorcycle going full-throttle on the highway would feel like.

Ochako made the mistake of returning Bakugo's gravity in a bid to slow them down and his grip was torn from her. This, more than anything else, wrenched a scream from her already dry throat. Or it could have also, realistically, been the wet _crunch-pop_ her shoulder made when his suddenly weighted body jerked backwards in her grip.

Ochako ended up with sewage water in her mouth for her troubles, screaming bloody murder like the green hero-in-training that she was.

The sound cut off, teeth snapping together when she slammed back-first into a wall with more than enough force to knock the breath out of her.

A split second later another body hit her chest; the sound of a skull bouncing off the wall behind her resounded loudly but had little meaning to her overwhelmed, fried senses.

For an undefined, eternal amount of time there was only the haze of all-consuming agony and terror drowning every sentient thought she might have had. The dark around her wobbled, contracting and expanding- a breathing creature as neurons fired in her head; a full-on war zone in an effort to make sense of up, down, sideways, and existence.

In the first cognitive moment at the blurry end of this eternity she realized Bakugo was sliding off of her, face-down into the waist high water that she herself was barely keeping abreast of. She bent forward at an awkward angle, half on some kind of ledge and the rest of her being tugged along in a sluggish current.

Ochaka scrambled to catch him, the air in her lungs still in the afterlife and with an empty wheeze she knew it would be another long second before it came back down. Her ears rang with the explosion that had sent them careening underground, so quickly on the heels of the ones that had blown a hole into the ground and melted the skin from her upper arms.

Ochako still caught him though, of course she did.

Her upper arms hurt so badly she wondered if someday she would remember what it felt like to not be in pain- but she still caught him. Her left arm didn't want to move, but the adrenaline pumping through her body forced the issue even though she knew she'd be paying dividends for it once the high came down.

His head lolled over her forearm, limp and pliant.

She'd bet money his back was bleeding again, but it was hard to tell now that they were both completely soaked and the dark was as impenetrable as ever.

For lack of any brain cells to spare Ochako shook him gently.

Her world was spinning wildly, a sort of _wom wom wom_ as the dark reverberated in her ears. Her best guess for this was that she'd damaged her inner ears- that or the sewer water was drugged. She guessed it was the former when her focus sharpened enough to feel something hot dripping from the shell of her ears. She couldn't tell if it hurt- everything hurt. _Everything was agonizing._

Her arms screamed in bloody anguish where Katsuki had lost control of his quirk against her skin, ever present and ever at the top of the mental sensation list, partnered with what she now suspected was a dislocated shoulder. Ochako tried to console herself in the back of her mind that at least she wasn't bleeding. Bakugo's quirk would have cauterized her skin immediately with how close his palms had been. Hot tears cut a path through the grime on her face and it was distantly frustrating that she wasn't even sure what one thing she was crying over. Maybe it was all of it. Yeah, probably all of it.

"Katsuki," She choked out, demanding the sound to exist with sheer force of will. Somewhere far in the distance she could hear muted splashes and the crumbling sounds of rock, like listening to music from underneath bath water. They must have traveled quite a distance down what she could only assume was a sewer vein.

She wasn't the only one attracted to the sound, beyond many twists and turns of the tunnels a face lifted from its solitary musings, manically gleeful at the thought of company.

More pressingly however, was when Ochako reached for Bakugo's face to see how hard he'd hit his head and realized that _he wasn't breathing._

* * *

AN: Uh, hey. So I didn't actually _mean_ to update early again, its just, I got so caught up writing chapters nine and ten that I sort of, uh, well. _Ahem._ I got a bit excited. Yeah, so I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please leave me a review, I always love to hear your thoughts!


	8. Dauntless

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"There is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs as heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone. A pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echos." -The Unbearable Light of Being

* * *

Katsuki had heard Deku tell the story before. He'd only bothered to actually listen the first time, curious despite himself at how it had all played out from the other boys perspective.

It had come up numerous times after, Kirishima had even instigated it a couple of them in what Katsuki could only assume was an insane bid to annoy his friend into violence. Which wasn't actually all that difficult all things considered.

He'd scoffed at the way Deku retold his first real experience with a villian. Both of theirs actually.

" _My legs just moved on their own."_

What a load of shit. The memory of Deku's voice, shyly proclaiming that trash like it was true now overlayed with the words he'd spoken directly to Katsuki when he'd had a mouth and nose full of slime, struggling not to pass out.

" _You looked like you were asking for help."_

What a dick. What a load of absolute shit.

And then of course, because the universe was a vindictive bitch it had to go and throw all his scoffing in his fucking face.

Admittedly, he'd been pretty focused on Deku getting his ass handed to him by one of the League's newest members. Deku had shot out of a glass window on what had to be the fourth of fifth floor of that building, glass everywhere and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Green electricity crackled around the boy- and Katsuki realized as a meaty inhuman fist collided with his last good grenadier in a spectacular explosion that sent the creature flying backwards into Class Rep- that Deku in all actuality, could probably handle his fight.

The roof shook under their feet, and he would have stumbled but that shit was for trash and Katsuki was not low enough on the rung to lose his balance over some dumb ass building crumbling to the ground almost a block away.

His red gaze snagged on Uraraka, her body in zero-g and dodging debris as fast as she could manage while propelling herself along the length of the clearest path.

She wasn't going to make it.

Fuck.

He was leaping from the three story building that he and Iida had been taking down a Nomu from, fire exploding from his palms in a blast that sent him flying towards the ground faster than he'd ever managed before he could register what he'd done.

No, that would come much, much later. Right now there wasn't time.

Her dumb ass hit the ground in the same second his boots met the concrete and he grasped, half-blind, at any appendage he could get his damn hands on. It ended up being her hand, Ochako's whole body following soon after, and before he could get in a _what the fuck,_ the desperate, terrified look on her face compelled him into motions he didn't understand. He pulled the entirety of her megar bulk into his, all soft rounded curves that belied the toned muscle he _knew_ was there, and curled himself around her.

His actions betrayed him, going farther than necessary to pull her ass out of danger in an effort to wipe the terror off her features. It didn't fucking suit her face. Uraraka was not some weak ass extra character and just the thought fucking offended him enough to heat his palms.

Before he knew it, that piece of shit Deku had a fucking building bearing down on them, and he knew after everything he'd managed in the last hour or so that the explosion he leveled his palm to ignite would probably be his last hurrah for the night.

Katsuki didn't hope it would be enough, because hope was a concept built for people who liked to say stupid shit like "I'll try." and "I did my best."

No, Katsuki didn't hope, he knew; and the way that Uraraka clung to him left him feeling like he'd made the right choice.

Even if he hadn't really meant to make it in the first place.

* * *

When he the woke first time, he realized with several blinks that it was dark. Suffocatingly dark- or, perhaps that was an actual lack of oxygen. Sticking with the theme of _Fuck Bakugo As Hard As Possible_ he decided it was the latter.

The next thing he registered were the little puffs of air that kept warming the shell of his ear. His head turned, more laboriously than he would ever admit to anyone save himself, until his nose brushed what he could only assume was Ochako's nose.

His cheeks ignited with heat, her little breaths still coming but now across his lips. He resisted the urge to lick them on reflex.

This was, of course, the perfect time to realize his hand was cupping her breast, soft and voluminous even through the constricting material of her hero uniform. He did his best to move the appendage, his balance askew and his back throbbing with a sensation he wasn't ready to focus on yet.

"Fuck. Shit." He managed through gritted teeth, his head pounding a double-pedal blast beat to one of his favorite thrash metal songs. It throbbed behind his eyes, hot and uncomfortable.

Katsuki tiled his face down, trying to move away from hers but only succeeding in tucking himself into the soft curve of her neck. Her skin smelled nice, like clean soap and something fragrant and he found himself unwilling to move when the pounding in his head receded enough to allow a vaguely coherent thought surface.

 _It just had to be fucking Uraraka Ochako didn't it, of fucking course it did._

"God damn it Round Face." His words heated her neck, even he could tell with how closely he was pressed into her.

The girl beneath him let out a sound that he didn't want to think about but would more than likely never forget for the rest of his life. A sort of low, languorous moaning sound that brought the unbidden image of waking up next to her in the morning to her making that same sound.

Too bad these circumstances didn't resemble his imaginations.

Not even close.

He had to wonder at himself for even making the comparison- _waking up next to Uraraka? Really?_ But in the end he figured any scenario would be preferable to this shit show.

All thoughts were wiped clean from his mind in the next second when Deku's little limpet began to struggle underneath him. His heart made an uncomfortable twist at the small sounds of panic that ghosted across his skin. Katsuki was an ass hole but he wasn't fucking heartless okay.

"Fuckin' quit it." His voice sounded like gravel, even to him; but it had the rather nice effect of calming her the fuck down. He had a feeling he was going to be doing a lot of that for the foreseeable future.

Pain rippled down his spine, intensifying with each small shift and minute adjustment he made. He cursed, a cough hacking out of him involuntarily that intensified the pain in his back to magnitudes that had him blacking out in small intervals.

"I can't see." She whimpered an utterly pathetic sound. He scoffed against her neck, taking in small, measured breaths full of the scent of her skin.

It helped, marginally.

"No shit." He did not appreciate her pointless commentary.

This pretty much set the tone for their interactions, right up until he got the stubborn idea in his head to see if there was enough room to actually get off of her. This was about when he realized he hadn't just lacerated a muscle, or broken a bone but was in fact _impaled on a length of rebar._

It was the sensation of it grinding against his scapula as his stupidly ill-thought movements pushed the metal farther into the bone.

It took everything he had not to vomit. He counted his breaths, the pain so intense he only kept track through force of habit. There was a long stretch where his mind went dark, a total black out of thoughts for an unknown amount of time.

She brought him back from the brink, with his first name of all things. The sound of it rolling off her tongue reminded him of when his banshee of a mother called out to him as a kid getting into fights and popping off his quirk on accident.

He resented her for the help by an equal measure of his quiet gratitude for the returned awareness. Unfortunately, as he would soon discover, awareness was a thing he would not be entirely graced with for the duration of this particular adventure.

* * *

AN: Hello everyone, so we are finally delving into Bakugo's side of things, I hope y'all liked this chapter! I'm really excited about the next chapter it came out really great! Y'all will have to wait for till next Tues/Wens though because all the early updates are killing me.

One Another Note: I started a different fic for Kacchako. Mostly because I got the plot bunny fever but also because I needed a break from the heaviness of ATPOI. I really hope you guys will give it a try, I plan to post it this afternoon. Please keep your eyes peeled for: "In the Light of One Lamp" Which is totally different from this fic, and has a premise I haven't actually seen in Kacchako yet- so I'm hoping the uniqueness will be refreshing? Assuming it hasn't actually been done; I might have just missed it somewhere.

As always thank you to all my beautiful reviewers, you guys are the reason I'm still writing.


	9. Precarious

At the Point of Ignition

"Woken up like an animal, I'm all ready for healing. My mind's lost with nightmares streaming. Woken up (Kicking and screaming)"

* * *

He was in and out often, body overheated and by far the most useless he'd recalled himself feeling since he had watched All-Might battle All For One like a limp fucking noodle over a year prior. The surge of irritation and the potent, heavy frustration that followed every time he came around enough to sew together a decent thought was almost enough to put him right back out.

Uraraka took the reins, and he had to let her as loath as he was to do it. He figured, if anything, at least it wasn't that shit stain Deku. He could do a lot worse than Uraraka Ochako.

He revised this thought somewhere between one agony-filled blackout and the next when a string of events tried his paper thin patience, the only thing keeping him from erupting into the usual white-hot verbal fire was the delirium that chased his every waking thought.

It started, of course, with Uraraka losing her shit. She jerked on her own limbs, her breath came in harsh, heavy pants that tailed the end of an unmistakably hysterical laugh.

Katsuki, despite his revolving door awareness, knew this was trouble for a myriad of reasons. The foremost being that if she didn't calm the fuck down she was going to exacerbate his already heavily bleeding shoulder. The second being the long-term results of this misadventure. He needed her to keep it together, he needed her to bring out that side of her personality that had faced him during their first sports festival, fierce and determined.

Because if she lost her shit, and she fell apart on him, then… well.

In a rare moment of self-awareness he kept his fat mouth shut, maneuvering his weight and hands in a heretofore undisplayed capacity for delicacy. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, and of all the things he hadn't bothered to expect out of the action, deriving his own sense of comfort from it had definitely never hit the table- but here he was.

He breathed a weighty sigh into her neck, a strange feeling settling in his chest like a contented cat when she copied his careful breaths without prompting. He felt oddly… validated; acknowledged- and he hadn't even needed to say anything to nudge her in the right direction.

She followed his lead; no yelling, no explosions required, and yeah, that felt good. Almost as good as it felt to have the soft skin of her features pressed into the heat of his rough palms. Almost as good as it felt when she unabashedly leaned into his touch. His heartbeat stuttered in his chest and _fuck this really wasn't the time._

The feeling of content was quickly chased away with ever familiar frustration. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings to go down this path, and then the frustration was promptly amplified two fold because _why the fuck couldn't he just let himself have this._

It was, statistically speaking, highly unlikely that they would be making it out of this alive. Of all the situations he had found himself in over the course of his life this one had to be worth at least one minute of quiet, untainted comfort derived from another human being.

But in the end, he wouldn't be Bakugo Katsuki if it didn't piss him off for wanting it, for having it without meaning to.

The self-loathing nipped at the heels of this thought, ugly, cruel, unfair, and entirely of his own making.

"This fucking sucks." The words jumbled from his mouth, much the way he usually spoke- without really thinking about it first.

"At least you aren't alone." He tensed at her words; a shocked stillness overcoming his fevered mind and for a moment he wondered if she had some kind of mind-reading quirk.

 _Stupid._ He lashed himself with gritted teeth. _You know she doesn't._

He should have probably said something, probably bothered to hiss ugly words in her ear but he found himself either unwilling or unable. He decided not to care before finding yet another reason to rile himself up.

Uraraka started to ramble, nervous tinged words that spilled from feather-soft lips and the sound of her voice grated on his already raw nerves.

His palms shifted without his permission, a gentle swipe of each thumb across the textured plains of her cheek bones, and blessed silence followed the action.

That in itself was a reward, and he grasped the excuse to do it again like a drowning man to a raft. He let himself enjoy it guiltlessly this time, despite his own awareness of the fact that he kept touching Uraraka because he _wanted to_ \- because _he liked it._

He heard himself acknowledge her, a sense of calm dulling the pain of his punctured shoulder blade and burning skin. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

It was then that he registered what she'd even said. If he'd had the energy he might have laughed at the situation. She needed to crawl down the length of his body, and she'd said it like it was just… nothing. No big deal.

Was he the only one overthinking this or…?

 _Fucking hell get a grip, she's just doing what needs to be done._

"Oh." The sound of startled realization left her lips, and some part of him was immediately relieved that what she was about to do didn't leave her entirely cold. Why that pleased him, he wasn't actually sure; but Katsuki decided he'd bother with making a mountain out of that mole hill later.

"There it is." He heard himself mutter, and damn if he wasn't so out of energy he couldn't even muster feeling pissed off about this- muttering under his breath like that ass hole Deku. What the fuck was even happening right now?

Uraraka was still talking, her hands were everywhere and _fuck_ her fucking fingers were _fridged._

Her skin ghosted across his. His shoulders, arms, back. Her legs ran up the length of his side as she looked for purchase against the uneven ground.

It was fucking _torture._

And as these things are, of course it only got worse for him, because she had to stop halfway down, her chubby fucking cheek pressed into his abdomen and her ample breasts squashed into…

 _Fuck, shit, piss, god fucking damn it!_

His brain blacked out for an entirely different reason, and he found himself snarling at her to _hurry_ the _fuck up!_

She snapped back, because this was Uraraka and she didn't take his shitty attitude laying down-

Or- well.

When she hesitated half way through her stuttering he already knew what she was going ask and he prepped himself; shoulders tensing for the oncoming pain.

"Yeah." He agreed to move, because it wasn't really like he had a choice anyways.

Katsuki was not proud to admit the moment he adjusted his weight, an undetermined stretch of time was lost to him afterwards.

Stars burst behind his eyes; colours bright and vivid, whole nebulas winking in and out of existence and Katsuki was fucking out like an acid trip gone wrong. The next thing he knew Round Face had him pinned to a wall and the building that was their prison was devolving into their coffin.

Katsuki's skin was ablaze, his breath came in harsh pants that sucked in chalk dust and drywall as the ground quaked, rumbling like an insatiable monster.

His palms exploded, accelerant dripping from his sweat soaked skin in a torrent of uncontrolled fever haze. Uraraka shrieked, and there was enough of him left to recognize the difference between a scream of fright and a scream of pain.

 _No. No, he couldn't have- he wouldn't- he was better than that-_

Katsuki sputtered in and out like waves lapping at the shore. Here and there and gone before a sentence could be considered complete. He turned their bodies, giving into the instinct to shield her from the fuckall situation he knew they had no hope of escaping. He could hardly think, his thoughts a scrambled mess and layered over even that there was the fear. Thick and cloying like smoke, thicker than the fumes his quirk gave off before he'd learned to control it as a kid. Katsuki did not like being afraid, but his usual turn to fury never happened; an ugly fissure in his head- a disconnect that left him gaping like a fish on land.

His mind tumbled down the rabbit hole.

Katsuki thought maybe words were falling from his mouth. Soft, careful things he'd never said aloud in his entire life but had always thought he'd have the chance to say someday. It hadn't ever mattered. There had always been more time, time enough to build things he didn't have time for right now. He wasn't even a licenced hero yet.

So he said them now for Uraraka, their meanings and distinctions lost entirely in the sheik of metal and the groan of rumbling earth.

Fuck. They were out of _time._

His vision of nothing rolled, the world spun in a fevered dream- a fucking nightmare more like, and his fingers were coiled so tightly into Uraraka's hair it was no surprise she was sobbing into his chest.

He left somewhere, came back and left again, a soft, distressed creature in his arms all the while.

He was drowning in full body pain and he knew they were about to die and for the first time in his life all he could muster was regret.

Katsuki regretted a lot of fucking things right now.

Then her voice, straight and true, sharp and piercing, sliced through everything in his head and he was helpless but to obey.

"Katsuki! Blow it up!" Her freezing cold hand was tight around his wrist, pressing it flat onto the ground and he didn't hesitate for a second.

He'd follow her to fucking hell if she demanded it of him in a tone like that.

Hopefully that's not what she intended this time.

* * *

AN: Hey y'all. Just a couple things real quick-

This is the last of Bakugo's POV, I did seriously consider combining this chapter and the last one but I just didn't like the way it flowed so I cut it in half. The next chapter will bring us back around to current time.  
Speaking of the next chapter- I might not be posting it next week as I am participating in the Kacchako Server Gift Exchange and I need to work on that for a bit. I apologize for the wait guys!  
I really hope y'all liked this chapter; even though i'm making you wait to see what happens next still. xD  
Please drop me a review, I always want to hear your thoughts, suggestions, and prompts for things you would like to see in the future.


	10. Fugue

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep- but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep." -Robert Frost

* * *

Real life was not like the movies; where the beautiful and mildly disheveled heroine endures terrible things and comes out of the tunnel with herself and her co-star intact. When in the moment of truth the beautiful actress knows just what to do to save her hero, all the right actions and not a single movement wasted. Perfect and austere; scripted. Culminating in that ever desired happy ending.

Ochako wondered if there would ever be a happy ending for her after this.

In real life, she scrambled to pull Bakugo up the ledge that would allow her to lay him flat in the shallows of disgusting sewage water. The smell had started to permeate her senses; humid, hot, and putrid. She was no stranger to her gag reflex due to her quirk but even this was pushing it. She did what she could to set this sense aside. There wasn't a time or a place for it right now.

Ochako's hands fluttered over her unconscious companion- the action useless and wasteful, but still doing her best to determine _what the hell was wrong._ If somewhere in the recesses of her overwhelmed mind she knew the answer- her brain was not forthcoming with it. Her head was a crowded place right now; full of odds and ends that had little to do with the price of tea in china, and others screaming for attention but distant and ill thought.

What was the right thing to do?

What would save his life?

What could _she_ do?

In real life, Ochako was injured; body full to bursting with panic and fight or flight inducing hormones. Her head fired conflicting signals and her animal brain forged civil war with her morals. It was a jumbled mess, a cacophony of the highest order. She was an imperfect human, an inexperienced hero, and an even worse medic.

A choking noise registered to her ears, faint through her own damaged ear drums and the bubble of hope popped quickly when she realized it was her own throat and not the boy in front of her.

"Katsuki," She heard the sound of her voice as if from a great distance, her mind so far removed and hanging by a fraying thread that this only registered on the fringes of her consciousness.

Ochako was in no position to be saving someone's life right now.

But she didn't have a choice, because this was _Bakugo-_ and there was no way in hell she was just going to give up and let him _die._

 _He trusted her to get them out god damnit._

Her fingers stretched into the dark, desperate and searching.

His bare chest felt mostly fine- if not a little banged up with his bandages completely missing, his shoulders were straight, arms unbroken. The curve of his nose felt normal, cheekbones solid under her padded fingertips. Ochako catalogued without pause, determined to figure out what little she could in the deep dark as quickly as possible.

 _Why do people stop breathing?_ She asked herself again and it felt god awful _important_ to know right now because if she tried to fix this and made it worse she didn't think there would be any coming back from what lay beyond 'worse' of this.

Her fingers sunk into his hair, wet and messy, digits snagging on a multitude of tangles. His forehead was wet with warm fluid, and her fingers slid across a cut beneath matted hair. It wasn't deep but when she laid her palm flat on the laceration she couldn't feel his pulse beneath the skin. That… probably wasn't a good thing.

Could a head wound cause someone to stop breathing? She thought, _yes probably,_ but if that was the case it could mean nothing good.

 _Brain damage? Fractured skull? Hemorrhaging into the cranium? Spinal injury, swelling of the brain tissue, prolonged oxygen deprivation, pain- severe pain? Could pain cause apnea?_ Ochako's thoughts rambled on and not a single answer was found. She didn't know. She just didn't _know._

It was too much, everything was just _too much-_

Ochako felt her world edging on hysteria, looking over the sharp cut precipice of sanity, toeing a line she had no business even knowing was there. Her pulse beat a harsh tattoo in her neck, an incessant throbbing in all of her wounds that made her lips feel numb with the nerve-fried oversensory. She knew it must partly be the overload of adrenaline for such an excessive amount of time taking a toll she was already negative to afford.

Everything was _wrong._ Why did it have to be Katsuki- he was too strong for this- it should have been her-

"Don't _do this Katsuki."_ She pleaded with him, fingers curling around his shoulders to give the boy a shake. His head listed to the side bonelessly, his chest as still as death.

Her emotions flipped like a pancake.

 _Fury_ , hot and visceral burned in her throat, clogged her eyes with wetness and sent an uncomfortable flush down her neck.

 _What is going on-_

"Selfish asshole," she accused, "you can't die and leave me here!" Frantic, unsure fingers that shook something terrible smoothed over his gritty skin; feeling for a heart beat and finding none. That explained the lack of a pulse.

Her hand curled into a fist and she slammed it against the contoured planes of his chest. It made a hollow sound.

Something ugly pooled inside of her, putting immense pressure on her throat with demands to be answered that she didn't even have half a mind to _pretend_ to understand. The emotion rolled forwards anyways, burning and familiar in ways she didn't care to admit.

" _You can't do this!"_ Her voice was shrill, a wavelength pitched in genuine, overwhelmed distress; it bounced off the stone walls around them but she was too far gone to notice.

White hot fury imploded in her veins and she wondered dimly if this was what it was like for him, to be furious with the helplessness, the frustration, the _not knowing._ An apoplectic discourse rampaged against the slowly sinking realization of the truth.

Her sanity crumbled like wet drywall trying to support the weight on an entire house.

Everything culminated into this one singular moment for Ochako, and there was no bright spark of hope that compelled her into magically saving his life, there was no sudden moment of clarity that brought her shattered mind back together to give her all the answers.

There was no Midoriya Izuku to swoop in and save the day. There was no Bakugo Katsuki to push her out of the way at the last second. This wasn't a training course, this wasn't a test or a midterm exam. This was real life.

There was no time left. There was only what was left of Ochako, and what was left of Bakugo in the impenetrable dark and the sluggishly flowing sewage water. Remnants of what had once been people, the course of so many choices that may have one day been made nothing but cinders and ash.

Dead people make no choices.

The anger fizzled out just as quickly as it had come, carbon on her tongue and sorchmarks behind her eyes. She sat, surely just as broken as the boy on the ground before her. Snot and tears running down her face, her sobs too quiet to hear at all.

 _What would she tell her mother?_ She thought nonsensically, _What would she tell Bakugo's mother?_

Her fist thumped against his chest again, arms trembling, her whole body flagging as she wobbled to the side. Water rushed over her legs, tugging at Bakugo's limp, lifeless body but she held on.

She needed to bring back the corpse. His mother would need something to bury.

The thought was was unbidden, and it hit like a freight train and cut like a knife.

Ochako _broke_.

She didn't know how to fix this.

The gravity girl pushed listlessly against the dead boy, pinkies lifted only by the saving grace of muscle memory. Suddenly overwhelmingly tired, drained beyond compare.

"C'mon." She pleaded to no one. "Please get up." She knew she said the words, she felt her tongue and teeth shape the syllables to the combination of sounds that had been meaningless until this exact moment in her life.

Now they meant more than she was capable of comprehending in her current state.

Her sobs tapered off and all that remained was a voided shell. Lost, nebulous. Forgotten in this foul place with nothing but a ghost for company.

It was here, in this blurry mindscape that she stopped asking questions and started to move.

Ochako crawled over Katsuki's cooling body, pressing down on his chest, and she jerked her weight against where she knew his heart must rest, just beneath useless palms that didn't offer a life-saving quirk. Her arms were rigidly straight, her pains a distant memory.

She put all her glorious, genetically-bestowed natural weight into pressing down on him.

Again.

And again.

Ochako's mind was a blank slate. An empty field of freshly fallen snow. There was no panic in this place, no thought, no feelings. Doll-like and uncomprehending she tilted his chin, lengthening the expanse of his throat and peeled open soft but chapped lips.

She pressed hers to his, and her breath filled his lungs.

But still he wouldn't breathe.

Ochako kept going.

* * *

AN:

Fun fact: 'Fugue' is one of my favorite words, by both definitions.

So this chapter is my baby y'all. I worked so hard on this chapter. It has consumed the last week of my life. I know it probably doesn't feel like it but this chapter is a good 3-400 words longer than the usual fair.  
I'm really, super excited to hear what everyone though of this chapter, so I hope you guys will drop me a review and tell me what you think! I really hope you guys enjoyed it, thank you so much for reading!


	11. Impetuous

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"There are things you do sometimes, actions that you take by obeying sudden impulses, without stopping for even a fraction of a second to think, and then you spend the rest of your life either lamenting it or thanking yourself for it. They are rare, unique, and perfect moments."  
― Irene González Frei

* * *

A long stretch of eternity passed, and for each moment that Bakugo's heart didn't beat beneath her palm a sliver of Ochako phased away with him. She was left a shivering mess of silent sobs, her shoulder protesting each jolt against the dead boy's chest; every movement jarring against her slowly dissociating mind.

The pain tried to drag her back, every bit of tooth and nail with claws that curved into her senses and tugged incessantly, but she refused. It was too much, everything was too much and if Bakugo wasn't going to stay she certainly didn't see a reason too either.

Had she been in her right sorts, that thought would have scared her. But she wasn't, so it passed unnoticed, added to the swiftly growing pile of feelings and thoughts that she had neither the time nor the emotional capacity to handle right now.

Something tugged at her awareness, something out of place and unnatural and Ochako pulled her lips from her companions, breath puffing cross the softness of his skin to look up and over into the deep dark.

" _Smells good, smells so good…"_

The voice was distant but close enough for her to recognize the unhinged sound to it. If she hadn't been shivering already the sound echoing softly down the deep tunnel walls would have done it for her for sure.

She didn't know what it was, a person maybe, or something else.

She didn't want to find out.

"Katsuki," She pleaded in a faint whisper, pausing in the middle of her words to push more air into his lungs. "You have to wake up now, something is coming please, please, wake up." Murmurs left her between one breath and the next and it didn't take her long to lose track of what she was saying.

Somewhere, skimming along the surface of her brain was the thought that no matter how close that voice got- she would refuse to leave Katsuki behind.

She'd be here till the very last.

" _Smells good…"_ A wet shuffling noise began to accompany the voice, bouncing off tunnel walls as it continued its slow but steady approach.

Ochako minded her own damn business, preparing to use her quirk if necessary to haul her classmate off and give them more time. A commodity that every aspect of her life seemed to be lacking right now. She give her whole left fucking hand for just a little bit more time.

It turned out to be a moot plan anyways, because Bakugo sat up.

And time stood still for one, precious, luminous moment before the world exploded once more in a rush of _everything._

It was sudden and awkward considering she was sitting in his lap, even more so as he violently began to vomit over her shoulder. He braced himself on her upper arms, and even the screaming agony of his touch on her burns couldn't stop the overwhelming rush of complex, broken emotions that ran amuck in her head.

Ochako's eyes held wide in the dark and her hands smoothed over his bare chest as he shook with the force necessary to expel the contents of his stomach.

His heart beat heavy and fast beneath her palms as if trying to make up for lost time.

Ochako gasped belatedly, squashing herself to his chest in a single minded need to reassure herself that he was in fact _alive._

 _Holy shit he's alive._

He grunted between heaves, an uncomfortable, disjointed sound that echoed off stone walls. It was the most beautiful thing Ochako had ever heard and not even the stomach wrenching sound of someone else puking could interrupt the euphoria that had suddenly eclipsed her entire being.

Her hands slid beneath his arms, completely ignoring the fact that he was pushing against her as if to get her off his lap and she clenched her fists into his back. She was mindful of the puncture in his shoulder that was pulsing hot blood once more, and it didn't take long for her own fingers to become slick with it. She couldn't _not_ touch him right now, she needed to feel his skin, warm and flush and _moving._

Ochako held his bulk fast to her body, terrified that letting go might mean _letting go._

 _Oh, gods._

 _Please, this isn't a dream. Please._

And she burst, she was a cup full and overflowing with so, so much and there had been so many extremes in the last- however long it had been- but she didn't matter, nothing mattered because _he's alive, he's breathing again-_

She let him out of the life wrenching embrace in favor of clasping his face between her palms, feeling the contours of his gritty cheeks and the curve of the corner of his lips with her thumbs. His filthy hair tangled at the tips of her fingers and his skin burned beneath hers. Ochako moved like a woman possessed and kissed him like she might never get another chance.

Which was still a very real possibility, but thought didn't play a very large role in Ochako's life right now. Just instinct, her fight or flight responses, and the cocktail or hormones she was higher than a kite on.

It wasn't even a good kiss, his breath was horrible and she was sure hers was too and they were both slathered in sewage water to boot. Their teeth clicked together awkwardly but Katsuki stopped trying to push her off of him the moment her lips touched his and he surged forward to meet her and Ochako just didn't care anymore.

 _He's alive._

Her eyes began to sting, and she realize she hadn't blinked yet despite the river of tears still flowing down her face. She didn't want to let go. Her first real moment of positive sensation, the drugging euphoria and relief erupting in her head and chest, dragging her under and all she wanted was to be with Katsuki. His skin was on hers, warm, living, and his fingers were digging into her hair and surely he was just a deep as she-

" _Smells good…"_

And reality came crashing back down.

They both stiffened at the same time.

"Time to go!" She huffed the words across his lips even as she began to peel herself away from him; because as much as she wanted to kiss him absolutely senseless she also wanted him to keep _living_ even _more._

There was a pause, the shuffling sounds growing louder by the second and Ochako found herself standing over Bakugo, her world spinning on an uneven axis even as she demanded her feet remain firm beneath her.

Bakugo didn't get up, and she wasn't surprised he was have difficulties considering he had just been _dead a moment ago._

"One fucking second…" He wheezed like it was all he could do to get even that out, and still he managed to sound so prideful about it. Ochako had no doubt, that if they had the time to give him that he would force his body to work on sheer stubbornness alone.

Unfortunately, that was time they didn't have, and she was no more eager to meet the thing complimenting smells than she was to have tea with the League of Villains.

She slapped her hand flat against Bakugo's arm, probably a little harder than necessary but her sense muscle control was a mile off of normal right now. All five finger pad lit across his skin in a sensation that didn't compare to anything else in her life. A twist in her gut and the twang of a too-tight piano string and Bakugo suddenly lacked all his natural born weight.

Ochako slipped her fingers between his, yanking him up out of the muck and filth and ran like their lives depended on it.

Right into a wall.

Her shoulder popped again, her body slamming full frontal into the moist brick and Ochako couldn't contain the yelp that escaped her mouth.

Bakugo said nothing, it seemed like he was too busy remembering how to breathe and she was loathe to interrupt such important work for any reason whatsoever. So she took his hand again, the sensation of their fingers folding together more poignant this time as she chose a new direction to high tail it.

Her free hand stretched before her in the dark, and the going was so much slower than what would be ideal but she couldn't risk Katsuki getting injured any more than he already was.

She couldn't lose him again.

Her fears chased her just as surely as the thing behind them.

* * *

AN: Welcome to the chapter that almost didn't exist! I hope you enjoyed it as I literally just finished it last night. I spent this morning trying to clean it up some but I'll be honest I was actually planning on only updating _In The Light_ today- but well. Y'all know me by now, I lack any sense of moderation while writing and so here we are.

I hope y'all have enjoyed it, I know its short so sorry about that.

PS: A few reviewers have asked me about the name confusion with Bakugo/Katsuki from Ochako's POV, and I know that there is _a lot_ of that in this chapter in particular. This will be addressed in the actual story but not until later, thank you for your patience while Ochako works out her crazy, addled, broken af brain.

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Please Review and tell me what you think!


	12. Calcine

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"Legends never die. Relentless, you survive."

* * *

Every step Ochako took squelched into a thick layer of muck beneath the shallow flowing water. It sucked at her boots, clinging to her short heels and it didn't take long for one boot to come completely off.

There was a part of her, the part that made sure her hair was trimmed evenly and flipped through magazines of summer dresses, that balked, hesitating for a split second in order to retrieve the article on reflex.

This facet of her personality was smothered by the rest of her a millisecond later, the part of her that was desperate to _stay alive._ The part of her that drove an armor-plated spike of continuous fear right between her eyes that _screamed_ at her to _keep moving_.

It reminded her that Bakugo was bleeding out again, that there was some fucking _thing_ stumbling after them in the dark and now was really, really not a good time.

She hopped for a couple of steps, her gait uneven from one flat foot and the other elevated from her blocky heel before she managed to shuck the other one off without the use of her hands.

The mud and filth beneath the water squelched between her toes and soaked through her knee-high socks immediately; but she didn't flinch or hesitate.

Ochako's nose wrinkled and she kept going, firmly entrenched in the head space required of her to survive, to get Bakugo _out._

Her pinky finger curled in on her own palm, sandwiched between her's and Bakugo's as she held him fast between her digits. His skin was slick was the nitroglycerin his quirk produced, she could smell the fumes- a sweet and smoky undertone wafting between them, cutting through the aroma of stagnant sewage water.

Ochako's outstretched hand came into contact with a slick, algae-covered wall after a minute of moderately faced-paced walking, and she followed the surface around a corner. It was here she paused, listening as best as she could for the sound of their pursuer before coming to the conclusion that trusting her hearing right now woulds be suspect at best.

"Bakugo-kun," She hissed just loud enough to hear herself speak, and his fingers twitched between hers before he pulled himself towards her with the same limb. Weightless, he slipped into her personal space like it didn't even exist.

It really didn't at this point though.

"I think we're past the surname bullshit Ochako." He said flatly into her ear, his voice breathy and guttural. Her reaction was immediate and uncomfortable, a flush blooming across her cheeks and down her neck.

"Just tell me if you can hear anything." She deflected, turning her face away from where she could feel his breath coming from.

There was a long pause, Bakugo's free hand coming up to grip her shoulder in an effort to keep himself from floating upwards. She tried to mute her flinch when his grip tightened over her dislocated joint.

She wasn't sure if he noticed, it was too dark to tell but he didn't mention it.

He hadn't complained about her quirk yet, and she could only assume that meant he'd rather suffer through it rather than the alternative- which would be trying to manage his own weight by himself.

Ochako wondered if that was a bad sign, and considering everything they'd both been through she came to the resounding conclusion that _yes._ It probably was indicative of his current condition which by no stretch of her imagination did she need to realize how utterly horrifying all of this was for both of them.

It was a miracle they were even conscious- let alone alive.

"I don't hear anything." He told her finally, and Ochako wanted to relax but there was too much tension, too much pain to manage it.

"We need to put your shoulder back." Bakugo said on the tail end of his other statement, and her immediate thought was _fuck he noticed._

And she knew he was right, she _knew_ it, but that didn't make her eager to follow through, or balk any less at the idea of how the mechanics of that maneuver was going to work out with him weightless as he was.

"Your back is bleeding Katsuki." She tried to impress what was for her, the more important matter right now.

He grunted noncommittally at her, and she felt his chest rumble against hers with the sound. Ochako's head interrupted her thoughts, throbbing with a blistering headache on top of everything else.

"Return my gravity so I can fix this." He tapped her shoulder gently, and even that small touch had her skin tightening with discomfort.

 _Oh, this is really going to suck._

She did as he asked, and was entirely unsurprised when he stumbled into her and she ended up with her arms around his middle as he held his palms to the wall behind her.

He huffed into her neck, hot, moist air brushing her skin and she shivered again for an entirely different reason.

Without her boots Ochako found herself quite a bit shorter than Katsuki, but he didn't seem to care, and she very staunchly said nothing while he collected himself enough to do what needed to be done.

His hands moved, ghosting across her flesh in what she really wished was a different situation entirely.

He turned her around, and she went because her brain was a little too preoccupied with what was about to happen to really be able to enjoy his muscular physique pressed to hers. His leg slid between hers, pressing her core flat to the wall while his other arm came up underneath her armpit to curl over her damaged shoulder, baring across her front in a firm hold.

Her cheek squished into the moist wall, and she didn't miss the way his weight still pressed on her like he was having a difficult time holding himself up- but was of course too stubborn to say anything about it.

His other hand slipped from their mutual hold, leaving her fingers feeling cold and oddly empty until all thoughts were washed away when the hand was replaced firmly against the burned blisters of her upper arm.

She bit her tongue, a copper flavor erupting in her mouth with a muffled cry of distress.

Bakugo made his customary 'Tch' sound between clenched teeth, and the only reason she could hear it through her aching ears was because of how close he had himself pressed into her- like he was trying to occupy the exact spot in space-time that she was.

"Bear with it." He demanded like he trusted that she would, and Ochako only had a split second to brace herself before he twisted her arm up, over, and then in with a wet _crunch_. The snap of ligaments and the brittle pop of bone back into place was something she felt more than heard.

Her scream would have echoed if Bakugo hadn't slipped his hand over her mouth, and her teeth pierced into the flesh of his fingers without her even realizing.

" _Fuck."_ She registered his voice dimly, her vision whiting out in the dark as fuzzy white dots crept from her peripheral to the pace of the blood pounding in her ears.

When she came back only moments had passed and she sucked in air around Katsuki's fingers when she realized she was holding her breath.

Her shoulder throbbed, but the pain was a dull ache compared to the sharp stabbing sensation it had been before.

"Thanks." She choked it out, more out of a sense of expectation than any actual need to express her gratitude. The word was like a muscle spasm; like Deku and his constant ' _sorry'_.

Ochako gave herself another moment to just _breathe._ A luxury she was loathe to allow herself, but considering what was coming next, and how she needed to broach the subject to begin with she figured she was due at least five fucking seconds to herself. Semi-to-herself. Whatever.

"Your back." She finally reminded him lowly, acknowledging the way he twitched against her at the mention of his own injury.

"What of it Round Face." It should have been demarcated as a question, but Bakugo broke all the rules- especially when he wasn't really asking.

"We have to stop the bleeding." She told him with as much patience as she could muster, which honestly wasn't a whole lot. She didn't know how much time they had before that thing caught up, and that was one introduction she didn't want to have. Ever.

It's voice hadn't even sounded human- more like so many voices piled on top of one another and distorted through an old speaker. Like something out of a horror movie.

 _No thank you._

"And how the fuck are you planning on doing that? Idiot." He declared rudely even as his weight pressed heavily into her back, pressed her into the slimy wet wall that scratched her cheek and stuck to her hair.

"How much control do you have over your quirk right now?" She knew it was the wrong way to ask the second it left her mouth, but she was in entirely too much pain and entirely too exhausted to muster up any regret over it.

"Bitch, the fuck kind of-" He snarled, and she swore she felt his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Just answer the damn question!" She interrupted with her own heat, and she ignored the way his palm smacked the bricks above her in frustration. She knew this situation was difficult for him- and not just in the obvious ones.

He struggled enough with admitting to his own weaknesses without having someone else bare witness to them.

"Fuck you Uraraka!" She definitely felt his teeth that time, and she found it difficult to focus on the stilted conversation with his mouth so god damn close.

"I'm trying to fucking _help you_ Bakugo!" She snarled right back, the flush across her cheeks both anger and unwanted, inappropriate arousal.

The fingers of his left hand spasmed over the curve of her hip where it had come to rest, an involuntary reflex and she had to wonder if the answer to her question was _not much_ when she could feel the excessive heat of his palm through the thin material of what was left of her hero costume.

"I told you _not to call me that!"_ His voice was loud, even to her ears; reaching his usual pissed off pitch that she wouldn't have even blinked at if the situation wasn't so dire.

As it was, his usual lack of discretion could very well get them both killed- assuming the thing shambling after them had less-than-honest intentions. She wasn't really inclined to think it wanted tea and a nice chat.

Ochako burst, emotions overflowing in a sensation that was not unfamiliar anymore. Anger, frustration and arousal of all fucking things moving her body without her permission.

She flipped their positions, the change in leverage an old technique she'd added to her kit a long time ago during her training with Gunhead.

He grunted when his back hit the wall where she had just been, and despite their mismatched heights Ochako didn't hesitate for a second to get in his face.

"Katsuki- you are _bleeding out_ \- there is a fucking _thing_ \- _chasing_ us! _Do not_ argue with me right now!" She became of aware of the fact that her wet, sock-clad feet had left the ground, her quirk active on herself in her attempts to get face-level with the source of her frustrations.

He seemed to realize as well, hands striking out to grip either side of her hips to keep her from floating up into the darkness.

The heat of his palms did terrible things to her insides.

" _Fuck."_ Ochako expressed herself, and now more than anything else they been through was the moment she really, really wished she could see his face; to read his features and try to tell what the hell he was thinking right now.

Instead of his expression she got his body language, or what of it she could feel. Which wasn't too terribly difficult when his hands were sliding over her hips to rest at the small of her back, tucking her weightless bulk into his chest so he could curl his chin over her shoulder in a loose embrace.

Her anger sputtered to an inauspicious halt.

Ochako was very suddenly reminded that Katsuki was also in a lot of pain- the heat of his chest a solid reminder of the fever he was no doubt still in the throws of. She needed to do her best to keep him calm- not escalate the situation by screaming back at him.

"What do you need me to do?" He murmured into her hair, tired and so out of character for him she didn't know how to respond for several seconds.

"We have to cauterize it."

The dark tunnel swallowed her declaration like a hungry beast.

* * *

AN: This chapter is super long compared to the others. Over 2k words, and it was originally a whole lot longer but I decided to cut some of it out cause it was getting a bit ridiculous. So I already have some of the next chapter written too!

The majority of this chapter was written to: "Legends Never Die (feat. Against The Current)" which is also the quote at the top. Good stuff! There is even a BNHA AMV for it. I recommend it to anyone who's interested.

As A Side Note: I am utter trash and I wrote a Soulmate AU for this ship which I will be posting for your reading pleasure. I know- I know, I already have a bajillion projects I'm working on but I'm a sucker for the Soulmate AU's and this ship doesn't have nearly enough of them so I made one. No Regrets.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked this chapter, we are getting close to the end now! Please leave me a review and tell me what you think!


	13. Blight

AN: I'm back!

At the Point of Ignition

"Sweet lad, o' come and join me, do! Such pretty games I will play with you. Will you, sweet lad, come along with me? My daughters shall care for you tenderly. I love you, for your comeliness charms me, my boy! And if you're not willing, my force I'll employ." 'Once Upon a Nightmare' -Epica

* * *

Ochako was one of the youngest students in class 1-A, her seventeenth birthday having only passed recently. Seventeen. It had felt like such a big deal not long ago- before all of this.

Now it felt like nothing, a pittance. Young and fragile and so, so inexperienced.

U.A. offered all kinds of classes, and she'd participated in more than one emergency-situation simulation. None of them had covered anything like this though. The terrible, debilitating fear. The crippling doubt and adrenaline. The injuries, the impenetrable dark that left her floundering at the loss of such a heavily relied upon sense.

Ochako regretted not working harder at her hero training when she had the chance. She regretted all that time wasted on shopping trips, and all the times she spaced out in class and failed to pay attention. Maybe if she had taken this more seriously, maybe if she had gone at it like Bakugo always did then she would be in a better position to save his fucking life right now. But what was done was done, and this was the only idea she had and she prayed to whatever god in any pantheon that might be listening that this would make things better and not _worse._

Neither of the heroes in training had anything to say as Ochako pulled them to the ground, muck and foul water sloshing up her sock clad legs. The echo of moving water sounded muffled and distant. Ochako wasn't sure if it was this moment of stillness, or the drop in her frantic heart rate to something relatively normal- but the smell of sewage seemed to be getting a whole lot stronger.

She bit down on the urge to gag, as familiar as breathing for her- but perhaps not so much for Bakugo who made a terribly wet, hacking cough. She felt it crawl its way out of his chest with a deep reverberation under her palm.

A shiver crawled up her spine at the sound.

She gave him a moment, but honestly it was probably more for her than for him, before her hands guided his arm up. Her fingers trailed along the brachioradialis muscle of his forearm until she had the appendage curled up and over his shoulder. He bent easily, as flexible as ever. Ochako held the underside of his upper arm, worried he might pull away at the last moment.

Not on purpose- but the body had all sorts of mechanisms to keep from damaging itself; and a muscle jerk at the wrong time could do more harm that good in this situation.

"Okay." She murmured, nervous and expectant.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

"You're an idiot." Bakugo finally announced quietly, and Ochako jerked at the sound, fingers twitching.

"Katsuki-" She hissed, irritation rising at his avoidance, only for him to interrupt her.

"My quirk creates explosions not fire dipshit." He stopped to cough again, and Ochako gathered all the harsh things that she had been poised to leap at him with behind her clenched teeth.

"So?" She prompted, letting go of his arm so he could relax out of the awkward way it had been bending.

"Sound travels faster than heat." He swayed under her touch, words murmured but still coming across as short and aggravated. She marveled at his ability to still be _himself,_ even now.

"The point, please." She bit, frustrated and nervous and _afraid._

His customary 'Tch' sound was oddly comforting.

"Do you pay attention in physics at all?" He grumbled, and Ochako had to resist the urge to shake it out of him. In the back of her mind there was a swinging pendulum, counting each second as it passed with a deafening _tick-tick-tick_. Seconds they would never get back, the precious few seconds they had before their pursuer caught up. Seconds before either of them succumbed to unconsciousness, or fever, or blood loss, or worse.

"My quirk relies on concussive sound," He told her with bite. "The point of ignition would only tear my body apart. Any heat generated wouldn't come until after, and by then it would be fucking pointless because sound travels faster than heat, that's what an explosion is Ochako." By the end of his explanation his breath was huffing out in shallow pants, breathless and exhausted.

There was a moment of throbbing silence, which might have just been her aching ears, while she absorbed his words- and the second use of her given name.

"Oh." Was all she could manage over the slowly sinking sensation that overcame her entire being. Somewhere, tucked and buried under so many other thoughts was the growing realization that came with this explanation- Bakugo had a quirk very suited to killing people; and the fact that he controlled it so tightly was a real testament to his abilities.

Outwardly, Ochako hung her head, her spine losing stability under the crushing weight of this new information. Her forehead found Bakugo's shoulder, and she might have been surprised if she had the energy for it. Instead she took a breath of moist, tepid air that was far more disgusting than anything she'd ever had the misfortune of stepping in. Her head was still pounding, a siren's wail of pain that rippled across all her nerves and it was all she could do for the next minute to just _breathe._

Existing was such a chore.

Bakugo's hand smoothed across her back hesitantly, tangling into the hair at the nap of her neck as he murmured unintelligible things into her crown. His palm was scorching on the sensitive skin of the back of her neck, and the sensation enticed a shiver out of her that crawled across her scalp and down her spine.

She felt it when his chest vibrated with the next cough.

"Smells like fucking shit down here." She heard him complain, but she was too busy trying to jump start her thought process into coming up with a solution to the very serious issue that was still spilling Bakugo's life out of his skin.

"We're gunna have to pack it." She finally declared, pulling away to sit up straight. The motion tilted her sense of 'upright' to something unrecognizable, but she powered through it. Bakugo's hand slipped from her neck and made itself comfortable on her folded leg. There was another momentary pause before:

"Pack it with _what?"_ Followed by a gagging cough, even Ochako wrinkled her nose this time. The smell was definitely getting stronger.

Her hand unfurled in the dark between their bodies like a blossoming flower, and even though she couldn't see the gesture the benign normality of it felt comforting. "We have… mud," A disgusted snort followed this, 'mud' being a generous term for the slimy muck under them but she ticked it off her index finger anyways. It's not like they were rolling in options… just a lot of mud.

Ochako hesitated on the next finger, scraping at the bottom of her creativity for any idea she could muster. "What if we found some metal, and used your quirk to heat it-"

"Concussive sound you fuckwit." He interrupted her, and as if to prove his statement light fizzled from his newly illuminated outline. Like a rave light it flickered in and out- and if Ochako hadn't already had a headache she knew the use of his quirk would have given her one. The sweet smell of nitroglycerin mixed with the myriad of other scents, and for the first time Ochako noticed the small displacement of air that accompanied the loud crackling pops of his quirk. Not that she had missed it before with his larger explosions, but now that she was armed with a better explanation of how, exactly, his explosions worked it seemed harder to miss even with these small ones.

In the few seconds of light that Ochako had she could see that Bakugo's features were haggard and filthy; half his face smeared with red and the rest of his skin a shallow pale that set off immediate alarm bells in her head. His hair was in wild disarray; some of it plastered flat to his forehead and some of it spiking up in what she could only assume was sheer stubbornness. Ochako caught a glimpse of the murky grey water that flowed between them, Bakugo's upturned palm crackling loudly enough to make her wince.

There was a moment when her brain seemed to stall, the sight of _Bakugo Katsuki's_ red gaze heavy on her, sitting right in front of her, half dead and struggling for consciousness- it was in this surreal moment that she realized she had yet to reconcile the boy in the dark with her actual classmate.

And then her eyes flickered up over his shoulder, and this fleeting thought was immediately tabled for later.

Rising out of the dark was a looming _Thing_ , crawled straight from some child's nightmare and into hers. The creature towered behind Katsuki, a slimy hand tipped with knife-like claws reaching for her companion, dribbling a greenish fluid all over itself and reabsorbing the liquid in a constant cycle. A bubble on the Thing's shoulder filled, and then subsequently burst like a soap bubble, releasing a noxious scent that she put two and two together to realize was the putrid smell that had been getting stronger for the last however-many-minutes. The Thing's eyes glowed yellow, too-bright and crazed, boring down on Katsuki like it was contemplating thoughts of _eating him_.

What could loosely be considered a face was split entirely in half in a grin wider than her arm was long. Yellow teeth grew like stalks from the opening, numerous and crowded and _sharp._ It reminded her of an angler fish's mouth, and this was the last thought she had before Ochako stopped thinking entirely.

The light went out.

Ochako _lunged._

* * *

AN: I now have a Tumblr, you can find it at Kanna Kyomu dot Tumblr dot com.

I have to do the link weird because FF has a deep seeded hatred of links so here we are. In any case you can find a random smattering of my interests and updates for my various stories there. I'm still trying to figure out how to add the 'Ask' tab so y'all can give me prompts, questions, or suggestions. Thanks again for taking the time to read! Please let me know what you guys though of this chapter!


	14. Zero-Sum

_ii._

At the Point of Ignition

"So we lay in the dark, we've got nothing to say. Just the beating of hearts, like two drums in the grey. I don't know what we're doing, I don't know what we've done. But the fire is coming, so I think we should run." -Daughter

* * *

In the cold embrace of Ochako's old friend terror, a multitude of things happened all at once. With a gasping breath, and the almost insurmountable urge to fold in on herself like a collapsible telescope, Ochako's fingers curled over Katsuki's shoulder to yank him into her.

The rush of adrenaline was familiar and welcome, washing away her aches and lightening the edges of her dark-eclipsed vision with a crispness that was almost painful. Her companion's disgruntled sound at her manhandling resounded at the same moment that long, hooked claws dipped into the flesh of the back of her hand like a warm knife through butter.

"What the fuck!" Bakugo barked into her fuzzy hearing, pulse pounding, the sound went in one ear and out the other; muted and indistinct to her brain.

It occurred to her that since the Thing was at his back that Bakugo probably had no idea it was even there, but it was an inconsequential fact.

Ochako crunched a shriek behind her gritty molars, her mouth watered at the effort and it took all of her fragmented control to remember that the creatures claws were sickle-shaped and yanking her hand away would only result in more shredded flesh- it was a very near thing. Instead she pushed forward, Bakugo slamming into her shoulder just as the Thing's claw slipped out from between her tendons and her fingers alighted along its liquid body.

Her quirk flashed to life with a bloated sensation that signaled the outer reaches of her limits. This, like many other things, she chose to ignore.

Bakugo lost his weight in the same moment that a handful of liquid separated from the creatures bulk to splatter and bounce weightlessly against the far wall. Ochako couldn't see it, but her awareness of the mass her quirk was acting upon pinged against her senses like sonar in the dark. One more tally craved deep into her already long list of sensory-overload. Vomit rose in her throat and splashed against the back of her tongue, and it was almost a relief to taste something other than sewage water in her mouth.

The formless creature warbled out a pitch in the upper echelons of a soprano, shrill enough to shatter glass and if Ochako hadn't been so busy trying to scuttle backwards and back onto her bare feet she might have clapped her hands over her already abused ears. Bakugo's hot oiled palms glided across the side of her neck in a motion she didn't have time to think about, and his grunt of discomfort at the waves of sound couldn't be heard be she felt it vibrate through his chest all the same. She almost tumbled over him in her effort to get back on her feet but Bakugo managed to gain purchase somewhere in his weightless drift enough to haul her up by her good arm. Their cluster-fuck of motion, one rapid fire movement after the next, was slick with the exchange of blood and nitroglycerin charged sweat. Bakugo's free hand popped with light, the rapid, exploding bust of sound interrupting the creature's screams and providing just enough red and orange-tinged light for Ochako to get her bearings and bolt for the nearest open path. Her filthy hair swung around her cheeks in an arc as she turned to look in a poor reflex of fear, the split ends stinging her eyes where the motion tangled them with her eyelashes.

The monster grew taller, shadows looming larger than life behind it as it built upon its liquid body and sucked up sewage from the ground like a cresting wave. It's face a horrid grimace of angry, beady, inset eyes and what she thought might be its jaw hung asymmetrically to the side. Visible results of her quirk-charged swipe removing a portion of its face.

Its expression, for it did have one, was downright murderous. Pinning her with intent behind its eyes- but it wasn't her it was looking it. It was Bakugo, just beyond hr shoulder. Incensed and hateful and _hungry_.

Ochako's scraps of conscience rallied at the sight. It wasn't even a thought she had, just a feeling. As heavy as stone and as solid as a mountain it dropped into her chest with the _thud-thud_ of her heart against the inside of her ribs- and it said _no._

 _You can't have him._

It was the same voice in her cavernous brain that had at one point informed her with cold clarity that a building was going to crush her to death, that it now informed her that there would be no outrunning this creature this time.

Ochako had experienced the height of fear and the lowest point of hopelessness and everything in between since the moment the fevered boy at her back had stepped between her and a demolished sixty-story skyscraper.

It was here, faced with this- whatever it was- this things that seemed determined to swallow her very last reminder of the good in the world in what would be a very bone-shattering and bloody fucking mess that Ochako met the end of her rope.

She had nothing left to give, there was nowhere left to run.

 _You can't have him._

Her world went full stop and her feet followed suit, sliding to a halt in the mud. In juxtaposition to Ochako's inner world the outer world continued to move as water rushed past her legs to join the bulk of the creature bearing down on them.

The gravity girl let go of Bakugo's hand after jerking him around in an unrefined motion to sail him behind her. His loud, grating protests fell on completely deaf ears. She felt more than heard the moment he was released back to the sewer floor, a twisting lurch in her gut that spotted white behind her blind eyes and wasted even more of her precious hydration in the form of god's forbid even more vomit in her mouth.

"-chako!" Katsuki's voice choked shrill enough to pierce the fog, followed by a _thud_ and a _splash_ behind her, but it was too late for words, Ochako wasn't listening. She wasn't capable of listening anymore.

It was too late to think, too late to run, to hide or scream for help. Ochako knew nothing but _move_ , _fight, protect._

It was too late for heroism, but it wasn't for survival.

Ochako's fingers spread apart hard enough to pop her knuckles and limit the reach of her tendons, her finger pads swiped against the dark and all she felt was the wet, hot, and volatile mass of whatever-the-fuck.

Her arms sunk into the bulk of their would-be attacker's liquid body, forward, forward, harder she pushed, _more, more, make it stop- make it stop forever-_

It slopped over her skin, putrid and jello-like as it sucked her into it.

Ravenous, a wild, senseless beast as it turned its full attention toward sucking her into its body like a starved animal. It's haunting, shrill screams rattled her teeth.

She gagged on its smell, she gagged on her quirk even as she swung weightless fitfulls of its liquid body in as many directions as she could. Her teeth clacked together in wide, open-mouthed bites of liquid monster as it filled her mouth and nose and stung its way into her eyes.

Ochako's flesh hissed where it touched her, itching and burning like she'd plunged her arms into a mound of hissing fire ants.

She was still screaming, but only Bakugo would remember it, and even then it was questionable as he bled out on the ground behind her.

The liquid, fire-ant monster shredded its claws through her uniform and probably the surface of her back, swinging wildly in its panic when her fingers closed around a pulsing _thump-thump_ inside its body.

It was soft against her palms, soft and mildly warm, thumping away like a little rabbit in her hands.

 _Thump-thump-thump._

The world held its breath.

Ochako kept gasping for more.

The drive for survival is a powerful thing.

Her fingers curled around the soft pulse, nails piercing crescents with a carefulness that was out of place in the moment, and she squeezed with blind purpose until the white noise of shrill cries ceased and the liquid body surrounding her started a slow, mucky descent towards the ground.

Her quirk twisted her insides as it flipped on and off and back on again, perhaps some visceral reaction as her hands held tighter still, jaw bone clenched together so tight pressure started to build in her sinuses.

The creature's nails raked down her back, an almost gentle touch as its liquid flesh seared away at hers. It lost cohesion, dropping away from her arms in thick, heavy chunks to splash into the putrid water on the ground.

And still she kept squeezing.

She didn't stop even as it fell apart around her, the once beating organ still in her hands.

She didn't let go of it even as she backed up, her entire being a chasm of ugly absolutes _._

No sounds, no pain, no thoughts, no life.

Voided. Blinking felt to her like sleep between milliseconds, an eternity spent in the dark.

Her hands found the shallow breath of her classmate in the dark, puffing little ghosts over her skin. He was wet and burning and horrifically silent in the wake of her call to action.

They were finally, utterly out of time.

Ochako's quirk snapped to life in her chest so tight and painful there was a stretch of memory that followed that remained a complete blank.

And still Ochako managed to drag Katsuki's weightless body behind her. One foot in front of the other. Again, one foot, slowly, the other. Carefully, over and over. Step, by agonizing step.

Still she kept walking, it was all she could remember how to do.

Forever it felt like, minutes, hours, days. Ochako slept only in her daydreams- and it was, suddenly, at some point or another- day.

Warmth skittered over her filthy skin and all she could manage was another step.

Maybe just one more.

Just beyond that tree, dappled with light and casting shivering shadows across the leaf-strewn ground.

Just past that crest, one more step, just one more.

Katsuki's weightless body draped bonelessly across her back, her bare feet sliding against grass.

Ochako took a single, solitary moment to realize she held a heart in her hand.

It was a sort of saturated red-purple, fleshy, and almost bag-like. Covered in little puncture holes and trailing shredded tubes from its core.

It looked very human.

Ochako let it slide her palm to slop wetly into a soft pile of cloves at her feet.

She blinked at it, mute, tired, uncomprehending.

Ochako kept walking.

* * *

AN: So sorry for the long wait, I really hope you guys like this chapter. I managed to squeeze it out between all my accelerated class work and my full time job. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think, only two chapters left now!

If you are interested, please feel free to look me up on Tumblr: KannaKyomu You can leave me asks and I do my best to post my pending updates and notes there.


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